


Who Made Thee?

by pandorabox82



Category: The Mist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorabox82/pseuds/pandorabox82
Summary: After Nathalie returns from the trial, Connor finds himself inexorably drawn to her. But will he be able to allow Nature to take her course?





	Who Made Thee?

Connor watched Nathalie as she drew the edges of the blanket closer around her naked body. There had been something about the way she had looked as she stepped out into the mist, so feral and elegant, like Gaia herself. Only, that thought was heresy when they were inside a church, a sacred place that was filled with God's presence.

"Only, God is not in this place, is He?" Nathalie asked, staring up into his eyes. The same unnerving feel sweeping over him the longer he looked into her clear gaze. Connor shrugged as he looked away from her, unable to continue holding her gaze. She let out a soft chuckle as she leaned against his shoulder, her head a welcome weight. "The trial proved that, don't you think?"

"Yes," he replied shortly, not wanting to think about what had happened out in the mist. Nathalie had been very tight lipped about what, if anything, she had seen in it, but her descriptions of what she had heard were enough to chill him to the bone. If God had truly abandoned them, if He was no longer in this place, did that leave the old gods in charge? And if so, did that truly mean that Nathalie was their messenger? After all, she had been the one to truly believe that this was Nature, sifting them, refining them, in a way far more brutal than anything God could have imagined.

"Connor?"

Nathalie stirred against him, and the blanket slipped as she turned to face him once more, looking for something in his face. He was hard pressed to continue looking into her eyes, to not try and catch a glimpse of her body. "What is it, Nat?"

"Benedict used to call me that," she murmured softly as she slung an arm low around his waist, almost snuggling in closer to him. He waited for her to speak once more, to allow the moment to be filled with silence as he drew the blanket around them both to shield her from the prying eyes of the rest of the people present in the church. The cavernous space seemed to fill with the presence of something otherworldly, and Nathalie let out a long breath as she rubbed her cheek against his chest in an effort to make herself more comfortable. "What if we're the only ones left in the world? What if those of us in here are the few who are deemed worthy enough to shepherd this world and shape it into something worth keeping?"

"Then we act as the best stewards possible. Neither of us will be able to have children, of course, but there are a few here who could perhaps repopulate. And there might be others, trapped in different spaces, who could also help us to guide the future."

"Hmm, yes. This time, though, we have to be more mindful of Mother Nature. We've abused her so much that she had no choice but to react this way." She paused and brought her hand up to play with the lapel of his shirt, and he had to fight the urge to cover her hand with his, to squeeze it encouragingly, to offer some small bit of comfort. "What do you know about the local legend of the Black Spring?"

The sudden shift in tone took him by surprise, and he did tighten his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he drew in a deep breath. "It's just a legend, nothing more."

"Mikhail mentioned something about a woman being murdered, and that's what brought it about."

"Again, that's part of the legend. She was supposedly a bit of a free spirit, like you, but back then, women like that were even more reviled by a society that didn't fully understand them. Superstition and religion mixed together into something fearful, and it ended up taking her life. Not long after, the Black Spring came, and people died. It always felt like a false equivalency, as if people were trying to meld together two very different things. I get it, we're hardwired to look for patterns in everything, but this myth just seems to ring hollow."

Nathalie shook her head a little, scooting even closer to him. Connor could feel the way her warm breath tickled against his neck, and he shivered a little, trying to quell the natural stirrings of desire that rose up inside him. "I think that humans look for the patterns that might not be there, and only sometimes we can find a tenuous link. I just wonder what brought about the mist this time?"

"I, I'm not certain," he murmured, turning his head a little so that his nose was buried in her hair. Breathing in deeply, he was overwhelmed by the scent of something earthy, spicy, and a low groan tumbled from his lips as he tried to think about something other than the way she felt in his arms, or the desires he had not given into for quite some time.

"Father Romanov has a bed."

Connor stiffened as he pulled back from her, needing to gaze into her eyes once more. They were large and luminous, but still seeming to see through him, beyond him, into some void that he wasn't allowed to glimpse. "You just lost your husband, Nathalie."

"And you want something so natural. This is a house of worship, is it not?" Reluctantly, he nodded, not certain of what she was driving at. "Well, why should we not worship each other's bodies, then?" There was nothing carnal in her look, and yet he felt aroused beyond measure just by looking at her. "Connor?"

"I don't know if I…"

She cut off his words by pressing her lips to his, one arm coming up to drape around his shoulder and hold him closer as the kiss lingered on. Though he had been expecting something lurid behind it, the embrace seemed more pure and natural than anything else. "Are you still questioning nature?" she asked, a husky tone in her voice.

Slowly, he shook his head, giving her a soft smile as they stood up. Nathalie pulled the blanket tightly around her body, following after him as they went to the private rooms of the priest. The starkness of the room seemed to bring into stark relief the fact that they were doing something thoroughly decadent, thoroughly lush, and thoroughly forbidden by the mores of polite society. Nathalie dropped the blanket to the ground and stood before him, no hint of artifice or pride on her face. Swallowing thickly, Connor fought to keep his eyes on her face, to try and not look his fill at her what could only be described as her beautiful body.

"You're too kind, Connor. I'm older than you, by a few years, and life has not been kind to me."

He hadn't even been aware that he had spoked aloud until that moment, and he blushed like a fumbling schoolboy as he shrugged a little. "You look completely natural, Nathalie. As if you have the very forces of the world at your fingertips. You went out into the mist and survived."

"Because Nature did not want me. She has claimed me as her messenger, her priestess. Now, are you going to worship at the sacred altar?"

His head nodded slowly, and she smiled at him, an open expression that felt like a ray of sun being turned upon his body. It was almost too much to bear, and he closed his eyes as he stepped forward and closed his arms around her waist, claiming her lips in a passionate kiss. The taste of honey, and flowers, and rain, seemed to overwhelm his senses as his hands travelled up and down her back, trying to find a place to rest.

Nathalie chuckled a little against his lips as she covered his hands with her own and placed them on her ass. "Don't be afraid to touch me, Connor. That's what all supplicants do."

The tone of her voice had changed, suddenly sounding older than anything he'd ever heard, and yet as young as a newly drawn breath, and he shivered a little at the implication of that thought. "Yes," he finally moaned as he brought one hand up to cup a breast, letting its weight fill his palm even as Nathalie made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. A tiny part of him marveled at the nimbleness of her fingers, but that thought was soon pushed aside when he felt his pants drop to his feet.

Lust, in all its heady glory, finally seemed to snap through his steely resolve, and he stripped off the rest of his clothes before capturing Nathalie's lips in a bruising kiss. She smiled widely against his mouth, and he was the one to gasp when the sharp taste of blood exploded in his mouth, and he realized that she had bitten him hard enough to draw blood. "Nathalie?"

"Nature isn't always peaceful and placid," she replied before cradling his balls in her hand. "To think, something so fragile houses the means to populate the earth. I don't know what Father Romanov's god was thinking when he created them." And before Connor could respond, she was pushing him down onto his knees, forcing him to look up at her. From that angle, she looked stunning, as if he was being favored with the beneficence of Mother Nature herself.

And then, she was widening her stance a little, spreading her legs in clear invitation. Nodding slightly, he shuffled forward until there was barely a breath between them, pressing his lips against her stomach in supplication. She groaned and tipped her hips forward, and Connor swore he felt desire radiate from her as he knelt further, dragging his lips down her soft skin until he came to the soft patch of hair between her legs. Breathing in deeply, he acquainted his senses with the thoroughly lush scent that was uniquely Nathalie.

Almost roughly, he grabbed her ass and pulled her even closer, fitting his nose between her slit, his nose bumping against her clit. The shudder that ran through her body told him that he had done something right, and he smiled as he repeated the move, listening to her moan a little louder. Pulling her thighs a little wider apart, Connor let his tongue wriggle out and lapped at her clit, allowing her taste to explode on his senses.

One of Nathalie's hands dug into his hair, pulling on it roughly, and as he started to eat her out, Connor looked up to watch her. Nathalie's eyes were closed, her head bent to one side. As he continued to look at her, he noticed the way her teeth grabbed at her lower lip, as if she was trying to hold in her reaction. As his eyes travelled down her body, Connor took in the way her other hand was holding her breast, her fingers tugging and pinching her nipple, and he was lost. Groaning deeply, he renewed his focus on what he was doing, determined to get her to break her control.

As he felt her thighs tighten around his head, he knew that she was close to orgasm, so he pulled back on what he was doing before fitting two fingers into her channel, scissoring them as he continued to lick and suck on her clit. The first loud moan slipped from her lips, and he knew that she was finally letting go, ceding over some control to him, allowing him to drive her over the peak.

A soft scream tore from her lips, though she was quick to muffle the sound by bending over him and pressing her mouth against his skin. Pulling away from Nathalie a little, Connor looked up at her, seeing the wanton look on her face, and he knew that she wasn't quite satiated yet. Nodding a little, he stumbled to his feet and claimed her lips in a demanding kiss, moving them back towards the bed and pushing her down upon it. Her eyes snapped open the moment her back touched the mattress, and they seemed all bluer, reminding him of the lake where he had spent so many happy summer afternoons.

"Are you going to fuck me or stare at me, Connor?" There was no coyness in her voice, no hint that she was toying with him, and he tilted his head to one side as he smiled.

"Maybe I want to just fix this moment in time in my mind. I don't think I'll ever get another chance with a goddess."

"Priestess, Connor. Gaia doesn't take kindly to people overstepping their place." He nodded a little before leaning in and kissing her once more. Nathalie nipped at his lower lip, drawing a small bead of blood that she lapped up. "You taste just as sweet."

He felt his dick harden even more at those words, and Nathalie's smile turned a shade more carnal as she leaned up and kissed him hungrily, wrapping one leg around his hips and managed to gain enough momentum to turn them over. Staring down at him, her soft curls covering her shoulders, Connor was once more struck with how full of life and beauty she was. And he knew that it wasn't the beauty that the glossy magazines his wife had once enjoyed, but rather the true beauty of nature – raw, heady, with just a hint of destruction if you looked close enough.

Nathalie straddled his body, rubbing her core against his dick, and they both groaned in pleasure. Connor went to grab for her hips, but she shook her head and took hold of his hands, bringing them up to her shoulders before she reached down and adjusted their bodies, his dick twitching as she fitted herself around him. "Nat…"

"I know, Connor," she murmured, giving him a wispy smile before leaning down and kissing him fiercely. It was hard to keep hold of her shoulders, so he let his hands drift down her arms before clasping her hands, threading their fingers together as they continued to kiss. Her hips rolled against him, and Connor knew that he was close to losing control himself, and he desperately tried to hang on to that fraying thread, since he wanted her to receive her pleasure first. "I'm going to ride you like a stallion."

If it had been any other woman, he would have laughed at the cheesiness of the line. But coming from Nathalie, in that moment, it seemed so natural, so feral, that all he could do was nod. "Yes," he breathed out as he let go of her hands to slip around to her back, tracing his fingers up and down before digging into the pert globes of her ass. "Oh, god, Nathalie," he moaned as their bodies began to move in a more frenzied motion, both of them striving for their pinnacle of pleasure.

Connor fixed his eyes on her once more, watching her closely. Nathalie's hair bounced and fanned out with the force of their movements, and he had to blink a few times when it appeared as if she was suddenly wearing a diadem of oak leaves around her head, lending her even more of an air of otherworldliness. "Yes!" she cried out, slipping her hand down the soft planes of her body and slipping her fingers between their bodies so that she could tease her clit, driving herself closer and closer to orgasm. The way she felt, tightening around his dick, felt so wonderful, and he snapped his hips a little harder, looking for his own release.

And then, Nathalie's body was stiffening as a second orgasm tore through her, her body bowing backwards as a sharp scream erupted from her lips. His own loud groan came moments later as his own orgasm spilled from his body. Nathalie sighed and cooed as she collapsed atop his body, nuzzling her cheek against his chest as she breathed heavily, trying to regain control once more. Tenderly, he ran his fingers through her hair, delicately scratching at her scalp as he finagled the blanket up around their bodies, providing them cover as Nathalie yawned widely, snuggling in close to him.

"Do you think we appeased your god, Nathalie?" he murmured as their breathing evened out and synced up. She nodded a little, a breathy hum slipping from her lips as she started to draw patterns on his chest. "Are you going to sleep now?"

"Maybe for a little while. It was both exhilarating and draining, being out in the mist. I wish that I could share the experience with you, but I don't know how she would judge you. So you'll just have to let me lead you for now."

"You've been leading me all evening, Nathalie. I think that I can continue," he replied, continuing to rub her back, seeking to anchor them to this moment. "I wonder who made the mist?"

She looked deep into his eyes, arching one eyebrow, even as a smirk spread across her lips. "Who made thee?" she asked before kissing him again, cutting off any further questions he might ask, leaving him to wonder if he really wanted to know the answer.


End file.
